


Funsize

by distantstarlight



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anxiety, Developing Relationship, First Dates, M/M, Size Difference, Small Penis, SmallDicFic, do not copy to another site, for the Twitter tag #SmallDicFic, happy ending guaranteed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: John has been keeping a secret from his best friend, flatmate, and possibly lover, Sherlock Holmes. How will their first date end when he finds out what John has been hiding for all these years?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 110





	Funsize

**Author's Note:**

> I came across the tag #SmallDicFics on Twitter and just had to give this a try.

John was nervous. He normally wouldn’t be because, honestly, most of his romantic nights were one-offs, especially once his dates saw him with his pants off. He wasn’t ashamed, exactly, but he had learned through painful experience not to advertise what he lacked in the pants department. There had been a few girlfriends, and yes, a wife, who hadn’t minded. Eventually dissatisfied, all of them, especially the wife, had made more and more negative comments about the one body part he could not alter, leaving him insecure and reluctant.

Now 49 years old and living with a flatmate yet again, John knew that this could be one of his last chances to find true happiness. All he had to do to attain it was drop trou. His palms were sweating, and his left eye was twitching with stress. John wasn’t sure he could do it. Tonight was possibly the most important night of his life, one where he would be crossing a boundary he’d never thought to reach, and he was wracked with anxiety over the possible fallout.

_He'd be alone again and probably homeless._

_He would be the laughingstock of everyone he knew._

_His huge secret would be out and everyone would look at him with pity forevermore._

John was nearly hyperventilating and tried to drink from his water glass to calm himself but instead ended up choking on his own spit, hacking and gasping gracelessly, attracting the attention of everyone in the restaurant. “John, are you going to be okay?”

A deep concerned voice was calmly speaking in his ear and a large hand was rubbing his back soothingly. John found himself calming down enough to catch his breath properly, and when he was sure he wasn’t going to cough into his date’s face, he looked up, “Just water, Sherlock, went down wrong.”

Sherlock’s face wasn’t mocking at all, indeed, he looked a bit worried as he took his seat, and John wasn’t sure, but it felt as if the tall man had been reluctant to move his hand. “Sure?”

“Yeah,” John proved his point by drinking more water, successfully swallowing without making a fool of himself, “Let’s go.”

They made their way home, taking the cab that Sherlock had arranged for their special night out. John was regretting every bite of food he had eaten because it was making his stomach churn. Sherlock tried to lay his hand on John’s thigh but instead managed to startle the lost-in-thought soldier so much that John nearly catapulted himself off the bench seat. _Thank goodness for seatbelts!_ Sherlock retracted his hand and didn’t make the attempt a second time. John was mortified at his own reaction. When they reached 221 B Baker Street, John was wishing he hadn’t moved back so that he would have someplace to run and hide that wasn’t here. This wasn’t going to end well at all.

As soon as they were in their living room, John’s nerve broke and he dashed to the loo, “Gotta go so bad!” He was fibbing and the glimpse he caught of Sherlock’s face told him that he’d been caught in the lie. Still, shame and worry drove him to lock the door behind him, bend over, and hyperventilate into a towel. _If the gods were fair at all they would smite him dead right now!_ The gods weren’t fair, though, and John continued to live. He stood to use the toilet, and while he peed, John looked at the source of all his misery.

For most of his life, John had enjoyed the rumours about his package, about how big it must be, how good it would feel, and how enviable it was. He loved the rumours because they distracted him from the truth. He looked at it and grimaced. His prick only needed to be held with two fingers, not because it was cold, but because there was practically nothing to it. It was John’s greatest failing and laughably, his biggest secret. At a minuscule 8 cm, it could barely be called a cock. He hated it.

Women were kind to him when they finally saw it, and complimented him, but he knew the truth – they were just being polite because while his prick was tiny, his oral skills in bed were what he used to make up for what he lacked elsewhere. If he couldn’t satisfy a woman with his nubbin then he could at least do so with his tongue.

Tonight was the beginning of the end. John knew that the moment Sherlock saw what he had successfully hidden all these years, the budding romance between them would be over. Sherlock was tall, beautiful, and had a proper adult-size penis. John’s doctoring skills had given him many chances over the years to personally witness Sherlock’s seldom used organ. The man wasn’t interested in sex, generally, and it had come as a surprise to John to learn that not only did Sherlock love him, but the man wanted to be in a romantic relationship with John – one that included sex.

John worked himself into a fit, hyperventilating once again, and finally falling to his knees to press his forehead to the cold floor in an attempt to calm himself. He’d been in here for far too long already and had flushed the toilet ages ago. Sherlock knew he was done in here and was probably wondering what John could possibly be up to. Finally, he couldn’t put it off any longer though he tried. He brushed his teeth. He washed his face. His final stall was to give himself a quick wash between his legs, though he was certain it wasn’t going to be necessary. Sighing with regret for what he was about to lose, John sadly dragged himself to the bedroom.

Sherlock was sitting on the edge of his bed and he looked anxious. He took a long look at the expression on John’s face before he shuttered all his emotions away, “You don’t want to do this.” John’s mouth opened but nothing came out. _He did want to do this, but how was he to explain to Sherlock Holmes, the world’s most physically perfect man, that Three Continents Watson was too shy to show him his tiny dick_. Sherlock stood, his face grim, “I understand, John. I have asked far too much of you. I apologise, you can stop worrying, I won’t force myself upon you. We tried and it didn’t work, so we can just move on as friends and nothing more.”

John was flabbergasted, “What?” John had no clue how Sherlock had arrived at this deduction, “Sherlock, where did this come from?”

Sherlock looked cold now, standing up, imperious and icy, “There were a thousand clues, John. You’ve been broadcasting your shame and horror for hours now. I thought you were just nervous because tonight might have been your first time with a man, but it’s more than that. You are disgusted by the idea of being with _me_.”

John was aghast. He had been so worried about himself that he hadn’t even thought of how his body language would translate to someone like Sherlock, “No, that’s absolutely not what the problem is. You are gorgeous. You are just so...beautiful. I want to have you a thousand different ways, so, trust me, that’s not it.”

Sherlock looked suspicious but his anger seemed to be fading, “Explain. Don’t hedge.”

 _This was it. It was going to be over in just a moment_. Steeling himself for the inevitable mocking and rejection that was sure to follow, John did the only thing he could think to do at the moment. He closed his eyes, undid his trousers and pushed them down to his thighs. His fingers curled into fists and he turned his face away before he had the courage to open his eyes. His heart was going to be shredded by Sherlock, it couldn’t be prevented now. Since there was no point in putting it off, John opened his eyes and peeked.

Sherlock looked dazed. His eyes were locked on John’s small soft prick and he wasn’t blinking. John wondered if disappointment had paralyzed him. He wasn’t expecting Sherlock to collapse to his knees, his eyes still fixed on John’s little penis, “Oh, _John,”_ he breathed, his voice deep and husky, “It’s so...perfect.”

John gaped at the man kneeling in front of him. Sherlock’s cheeks were pinkening, and John could not mistake the growing tent in the man’s trousers. _His minuscule finger of a prick was turning Sherlock on?_ “Are you serious?”

Sherlock seemed to have a difficult time dragging his gaze away but after a visible struggle, his gaze met John’s, “You are so lovely, so...deliciously small.”

John almost stepped back in shock. “What do you mean?”

Sherlock got to his feet unsteadily before drawing himself to his full height and stepping close enough to loom over John, “You are short, John, and compact, and in a word, small. I love the differences in our sizes. I need to see all of you, please, John. I want to strip you naked and worship every bit of your perfect little body."

John found himself being gently led to the bedroom by a sloe-eyed Sherlock. The man’s cock only seemed to be getting bigger, the lump in his pants poking obscenely outward with every step. When they arrived, Sherlock wasted no time stripping them both down to their skins before falling to his knees once more, “You don’t have to.”

“You can’t stop me,” Sherlock leaned right in, wasting no time at all, and licked a short, wet strip up the side of John’s still soft prick, “Delicious.” Sherlock slid his lips over John’s cock, allowing it to lay upon his tongue. With gentle suction and deliberate licks, Sherlock made John hard. Soon he was breathing raggedly as Sherlock lavished all his attention onto John’s small cock. The detective seemed to be in a trance, his eyes lidded and his lips red with friction. It felt amazing but it wasn’t quite enough to bring John over the edge, “I want more.”

“Yes, that, more,” moaned John. He was then pushed flat onto the bed with Sherlock kneeling over him, “Yes.”

“Yes, John, my sweet little man, look at how pretty you are.” Sherlock bucked his hips and for a moment, their pricks brushed against each other. Sherlock’s moan of appreciation was mostly a deep rumble. He knelt back and used his hand to push their erections together. Carefully, Sherlock lined them up side-by-side and rocked his hips so that he was fucking his shaft over John’s. His cock was easily twice, or even more, longer than John’s, and it was as thick as Sherlock’s wrist. It was a monster compared to John’s petiteness.

Sherlock was almost unhinged with passion. He licked John everywhere he could reach until he made his way back to John’s arse. Making the older man kneel, Sherlock used all his considerable skill to tongue John open. No one had ever lavished such attention on John before, it had always been him doing whatever he could to keep his date in his bed. Sherlock was holding him open, his long fingers spanning their entire surface easily as he kept his cheeks wide apart. John couldn’t help moaning, it all felt amazing. Soon he was loose and extremely wet, the saliva from Sherlock had been spread around generously.

Sherlock caressed John’s entire body, rapturously comparing the length of their arms, the span of their legs, and every way he could manage to think of, groaning as John’s measurements consistently failed to match his. John was blown away by his obvious arousal, never in his life had he expected to find someone who got off because of the disparity in their measurements! Sherlock combed his fingers through John’s body hair with fascination, lipping at it and moaning softly. He spent a few moments kissing each nipple, moving back and forth between them until they were hard.

Sherlock pulled back and hauled John’s hips to the edge of the bed the moment he got his feet under him. Impatient once more, Sherlock pushed John’s thighs as wide as they would go, making John hold them in position before he used one hand to position his cock, and began to push in. John’s eyes rolled back into his head at the intensity of it all. Being pierced like this was nothing he could have imagined before. He felt his hole give way to the blunt strength of Sherlock’s cock. Sherlock was trembling and kept pressing forward relentlessly. John groaned as the mix of pain and pleasure confused him. Sherlock’s cock was splitting him apart and he loved every second of it.

Sherlock’s entrance seemed to go on forever as his long thick cock forged its way inside John’s virgin passage. He wasn’t forcing his way, John’s body was practically sucking him in. John could feel the heat of him deep inside, and he couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his lips, “John? Hurts?”

“Good,” John understood Sherlock’s inability to manage more than one syllable at a time. All the sensations they were creating together were overwhelming. John’s body was confused on how to react to the invasion, and while it didn’t exactly hurt, there was a stretchy sort of tingling that wasn’t wonderful. “It’s good.”

Sherlock shuddered, and almost withdrew entirely. With a deep rumbling moan, he pushed back in, his head falling back as he clearly became overwhelmed with bliss. From there, it grew frantic. Sherlock began thrusting slowly but his pace picked up gradually until he was bucking almost wildly. John couldn’t believe how amazing it felt, how the weight of Sherlock over him was adding to his experience. Sherlock leaned over and folded John against his broad chest, his hips working relentlessly as he chased his orgasm.

John had never had a sexual experience like this in his entire life. No one had ever taken him to bed and been lost to desire the way Sherlock was. The man was wild with lust, pounding into John’s body with intensity. John worked his own hips a bit, just enough to rub his little cock against Sherlock’s belly and it was enough to set the man off.

John both felt and heard Sherlock’s elongated groan of delight. He could feel the throbbing spurts inside him as his lover came. Sherlock’s body jerked harshly, slamming into John’s as he orgasmed. The taller man barely paused. He carefully extracted himself before slithering to his knees, engulfing John’s small prick, and enthusiastically using his lips and tongue until John could hold back no longer. When Sherlock pushed two long fingers into John’s well-fucked behind, he could not keep himself from coming a moment longer.

He'd never felt anything like it. No one had ever gone down on him like that. He’d had blowjobs before, pity filled ones, condescending ones, but never the kind that left the giver almost keening with delight as he lapped up every spec of semen he could locate, kissing John’s softening shaft until it was limp and quiescent once more. Sherlock crawled onto the bed and arranged them both into a comfortable cuddle to recuperate in. With a very satisfied sigh, Sherlock spoke, “That was better than anything I could have dreamed of. You are everything I’ve ever fantasized about.”

John was stunned but he could not deny the evidence his own eyes had taken in. Sherlock didn’t feel sorry for John, nor did he seemed to be unhappy about John’s diminutive organ. “You really don’t mind?”

Sherlock sounded sated and shagged out, “Mind what?”

John wasn’t sure pointing things out was going to be a good idea, but he had to know for sure, “My cock, how tiny it is. You can’t want that, not really.”

Sherlock yawned hugely before twisting around and nestling himself tightly against John’s body, “It’s fantastic, perfectly formed, and it’s delicious. I’m going to suck you off every day if you’ll let me.”

Let him? “Seriously?”

“Seriously, John,” Sherlock twisted his head up to look at John, “It’s not the worst fetish to have, I’m hardly the only person in the world who prefers their bedmates to be...fun-sized.”

“I hate you,” exclaimed John.

“You love me, and I love you, especially your little wee,” Sherlock yawned again and seemed to be falling asleep.

“Don’t call it a little wee,” John was both embarrassed and thrilled.

“Pick any label you like, as long as I get to play with it whenever I want, and I’m going to want to a lot.”

John lay there with a silly smile on his face as Sherlock began to snore. This had been the best date he’d ever been on. He’d never had his body accepted the way Sherlock had done and for the first time in his life, John was absolutely certain that he’d made the right choice.

**Author's Note:**

> *requests closed*


End file.
